


The Purl of Great Price

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Knitting, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-05
Updated: 2010-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-26 03:44:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas has been riding in the Impala's back seat for a while now, and Sam has <i>insisted</i> that Dean find him a hobby for the road.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Purl of Great Price

It's Sam who decides Castiel needs a hobby.

" _Look_ at him, Dean," he whispers while they're at a rest stop. Cas is still in the back seat of the car, hands folded in his lap, looking straight forward.

"He looks fine?" Dean replies, a bit uncertain. "Seriously, dude, that's what he's always like."

"But he's..." Sam makes this flailing hand gesture that, due to Dean's incredible ability to decipher Idiot Little Brother, he correctly interprets as 'human', "...now, and he'll be _bored_ and probably _upset_. We have to keep him from dwelling!"

"Not a big deal," Dean reiterates. "Cas is fine. If he needed something, he'd tell us."

Sam gives him this look like Dean's just kicked a puppy. Dean's never been good at ignoring that face, and he's pretty sure Sam damn well knows it.

So the next time they hit a travel plaza, Dean buys Cas a Stephen King novel to go with their Slim Jims and cheap gas station coffee.

Castiel finishes the book in twenty miles. Turns out the loss of angelic powers does _not_ mean the loss of speed-reading abilities.

So the next time Dean buys him a big thick book of sudoku puzzles. It lasts an hour.

Around the time Dean gives him a coloring book and pens, Castiel stops him. "What are you doing, exactly?"

Dean shrugs helplessly. "Sam thinks you're bored and you need to find something to do."

"Oh. Hm," Castiel mutters, looking away and frowning.

"Look, man, I tried to tell him you were cool. If you don't wanna do anything, you don't have to," Dean says, feeling a little ridiculous but not really knowing why. It just seemed odd, trying to entertain an angel (former angel?) with human pastimes.

"No, perhaps Sam is right," Castiel decides. "I will do research."

Dean gives a helpless little shrug.

\--

Two days later Castiel has a sketchpad. He uses it for about three hours before snapping a piece of charcoal in half and muttering about "damned human visual limitations."

\--

Three days after that Cas has somehow procured a camera. When he gets his first roll of film developed, it contains two pictures of a duck they met while stopped for food, three of Sam's ear, one rather artful shot of Dean's knuckles on the steering wheel, and one of a passing semi. All the others are of the interior of the Impala.

"I think photography is a laudable hobby," he tells Dean, going through the prints. "But I also think I may need something else to supplement it when we are driving."

"Yeah, me too," Dean agrees, taping one of the photos of Sam's ear to the back of the laptop and smirking.

\--

A week later Cas is curled up in the back seat with a ball of yarn and a pair of needles, concentrating like he's trying to decipher an ancient text as he attempts to cast on stitches. Dean _barely_ manages not to laugh every time he looks in the rearview mirror.

Somewhere in Michigan, Castiel presents Dean with a scarf made of a deep forest green wool. It's a little lumpy in places and obviously a first try, but it's super warm. Dean kinda grunts a little in thanks when he receives it, but damn if he doesn't wear it every day for the rest of the winter.

A few days later, Sam receives a smoky grey scarf with white stripes. He's obviously pleased as punch that he gets a gift.

It just seems like Cas is becoming a little obsessed with the whole knitting bit. He keeps sneaking off to yarn shops, and once he came back with a whole bag full of soft alpaca wool in various earthy colors.

"What color do you suppose Bobby would like?" Castiel asks one day as he's finishing the tassels on a rich red scarf.

Dean shoots Sam a _look_ as he mouths, "This is all you, princess."

\--

The knitting becomes a problem eventually, as everything is wont to do.

They're working a case somewhere in Utah, some spellcasting shit that seems a lot like witches, which _blows_. Dean leaves the library first with a couple of very broad hints to Sam he may wanna delay his own return by a few hours unless he wants an eyeful. This earns him a baleful glare from poor sexually-frustrated Sammy and a finger.

Cas has claimed one of the beds for his own and is sitting against the headboard when Dean gets back. He is carefully and deliberately clicking his needles together, picking up stitches here and there. He pauses only slightly when Dean walks in to look up and give a greeting, then continues with his work.

Dean slings his jacket off and unwinds his scarf, shaking away the cold. "Miss me?"

"Mm," Castiel non-responds, pausing to look at a pattern book.

"Wow, Cas, way to make a guy feel loved," Dean huffs, going to the bedside. He lifts Castiel's chin up with one hand and bends to kiss him. Cas stills for a moment, soft and warm under him, but totally not on the same page.

"I am teaching myself to cable knit," Cas explains when Dean straightens back up, pointing an elbow to the pattern book open beside him.

"Fascinating," Dean says, tugging at the collar of the tee they had convinced Castiel to start wearing rather that poor bedraggled suit.

"Dean," Cas says, in between the kisses Dean's rather irritably trying to get him to return properly, "just three more--rows. This is a very--delicate section."

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Dean growls. He swings a knee over Castiel's legs, so that he's kneeling over him on the bed. Shoving Cas's hands--and the knitting with them--down out of the way, Dean kisses him fully, teasing against his lips in a way that experience has taught him pushes all the right buttons. After a moment, Cas moans into his mouth, bringing a hand up to slide along Dean's hair. Something about it _tickles_ unexpectedly. Dean pulls away a little, and yeah, Cas still has yarn wrapped around his fingers, and now it's brushing against Dean's cheek.

But at this point that little switch Castiel has where he goes from indifferent about sex to _now or else_ (damn angelic intensity) has definitely been flipped, and he grunts angrily and pulls Dean back down, apparently not giving a flying fuck about yarn and its inappropriate application in their current activities.

Somehow in the process of getting their shirts off Dean winds up with yarn wrapped around his forearms. He grumbles and tries to shrug it off, but then Castiel is sliding his long fingers from Dean's neck to hips and that leaves another strand wrapped around his chest and you know what? Fuck it. Cas has a pool of blue yarn on his chest and who the hell knows where the project itself went, but that is totally not at all concerning to Dean the minute Castiel slides one cool hand into his jeans.

Dean gasps and grinds down onto Cas, looking for any sort of friction. Castiel slides his hand back out and pops the button on Dean's jeans before shoving them down as far as he can get them from his current position. Dean shimmies the rest of the way out, boxers joining denim on the floor. Cas rocks his hips up as tries to get his own jeans off, but yarn has wrapped itself around his thighs and he keeps hitting it as he tries. Finally Dean just swats his hands away and pulls them off himself.

The minute they're off, Cas lunges off the bed and flips Dean down so that he's suddenly in control. "Pushy," Dean tsks. Castiel _hmm_ s indifferently deep in his throat and sucks an open-mouthed kiss along Dean's jaw. Straddling Dean, Cas grinds their hips together for a moment before wrapping his palm around both of their cocks.

Dean curses as he finally gets the friction he's been looking for. Castiel's hand is still cool, but his dick is hot and heavy against Dean's own, and fuck if the sensations aren't killing him. He surges up, trying to pull Cas back down to him, but the bastard just smirks and leans away as he pumps them both at an infuriatingly slow pace.

The yarn that's looping around the back of Castiel's neck trails down near Dean's hand, though, so he grabs it and yanks, pulling Cas back down so Dean can lick at his collarbone. Cas hisses lightly and his hand moves faster. Dean practically purrs his approval, fingers digging into Cas's hips. A little bit of this, Dean thrusting up in time to Castiel's quickening movements, and he's just about done for. It wasn't what he'd been expecting, but hell, it's pretty awesome and he's totally going for it.

With his free hand, Cas reaches down and, flicking aside a strand of wool, scrapes blunt fingernails over one of Dean's nipples. That's all it takes, just that extra little jolt of sensation, and Dean's coming all over Cas's hand and his own stomach. Cas gets himself off with only a couple more flicks of his wrist and then slides off Dean to rest beside him on the bed, looking rather self-satisfied about the whole thing.

"Ow, ow, _shit_ ," Dean hisses a little later, when the endorphins have worn off some. Something hurts like hell right above his hip. He slides his hand down between him and Cas, fingers digging at something long and smooth. He gives a tug and out pops a knitting needle, bare of yarn and warm from their body heat. "Oh _hell_ ," he says. "Cas, I think we destroyed your cable thing."

Castiel gives him this look like he's an idiot. He's trussed up like a Sunday ham, flushed skin bisected time and again by lines of deep blue. Dean wonders where the original hank of yarn is and if Cas would kill him for just grabbing his knife and cutting his way out of this mess. As if on cue, Cas rolls over and reaches for Dean's pants, and oh yeah, they're tied up good because Dean can feel every movement Castiel makes as a tightening or loosening of the yarn that's wrapped around his own body. Cas flips open Dean's pocket knife and starts sawing through the wool, the yarn popping free around Dean's waist and thighs.

After it's all gone, Dean flops down beside Cas again, intent on catching a quick nap. Life is not kind, however. " _Ow!_ Fuck!" Dean yelps, and oh, _there's_ the other knitting needle. Dean seizes it angrily and wings it across the room. God only knows where the fucking cable needle is. Probably lying in wait to stab him in the face later.

Castiel shakes with quiet laughter next to him.

"Not funny," Dean grouses.

"I told you three more rows, Dean," he says, voice layered with longsuffering smugness. "You're the one who would not wait."

Dean grumbles.

\--

Castiel buys an entirely new set of needles and skein of yarn the next day and starts working on his cable scarf again. It takes about three lecherous grins from Dean and corresponding smirks from Castiel for Sam to decide he really, _really_ doesn't want to know.


End file.
